måndag, december 21, 2009

Je m'appele...

I used to hate my name. Then I got a bit more into Jimi. I think I like music so much because I feel as if the artist knew me, because a truly talented one can write as if they are describing everything I have gone through and feel, but will never describe. Goodness, I love this song! He describes absolutely everything about and even goes through the effort of mentioning my name! The pain, the agony!!

I love this song, dammit.

After all the jacks are in their boxes
And the clowns have all gone to bed
You can hear happiness staggering on down the street
Footprints dressed in red
And the wind whispers Mary

A broom is drearily sweeping
Up the broken pieces of yesterday’s life
Somewhere a queen is weeping
Somewhere a king has no wife
And the wind, it cries Mary

The traffic lights they turn up blue tomorrow
And shine their emptiness down on my bed
The tiny island sags downstream
‘Cause the life that lived is, is dead
And the wind screams Mary

Will the wind ever remember
The names it has blown in the past
And with his crutch, it’s old age, and it's wisdom
It whispers no, this will be the last
And the wind cries Mary